


5 times the Voltron gang realizes Keith's strong af (and the 1 time Keith's weak)

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, including shiro - Freeform, keith lifts a lot of stuff, keith's strong af, shiro has a nightmare, vague mentions of minor characters dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Exactlywhat it says on the tin can.





	5 times the Voltron gang realizes Keith's strong af (and the 1 time Keith's weak)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartslogos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartslogos/gifts).



>  
> 
> [This fanart](https://twitter.com/3lunch_comm/status/903231409636032513) had me and hearts screaming over Keith being stronk and well. The rest is history. 
> 
> Unbeated lol
> 
>  
> 
> ~~God I hope I didn't forget to tag anything...~~
> 
>  
> 
> The weight lifting part is probably inaccurate idk shit about dudes weight lifting.

 

> 01   Pidge

 

Pidge doesn’t know what time it is beyond the fact that it’s _late_. Not “past lights out” late or even “it’s the dead of night” late. It’s more like “it’s this close to being morning late holy shit” kinds of late.

 

She usually doesn’t push herself to stay up this late but she’d been on the verge of a breakthrough that would complete the coding necessary to bridge the gap between Earth and Altean tech. Unfortunately, despite the fact that an epiphany had seemed within her reach, the physical limitations of her body have told her to stop for the night.

 

So here she is, staggering down the hallway and rubbing her eyes in the hopes that the blurriness goes away. It doesn’t. So she rubs a little harder, annoyed by how the sleep burning the corner of her eyes had denied her a much needed eureka moment.

 

 _‘I’ll set the alarm to wake me up in 3 hours. Two REM cycles have to be enough. Then I can go back to the coding.’_ she nods to herself. ‘ _I’ll leave a note for Hunk and Coran too. Maybe the three of us can figure out how to get that convertor Hunk made going. Good thing today’s an off day so I don’t have to wake up early for paladin training.’_

 

She’s so caught up in her thoughts, wondering how much longer it’s going to take to complete the connectntly, night mode. But at the counter, the single light burns steady down on Keith and Shiro. What catches her by surprise isn’t the fact that she’s accidentally walked in on them kissing, but rather the fact that _Keith’s_ got Shiro hefted up against the fridge.

 

Keith’s hands are under Shiro’s ass, his biceps tight as he keeps Shiro held up with his back against the fridge. Shiro’s hands meanwhile, are threading themselves into Keith’s hair as they kiss over and over again, whispering in between each soft contact.

 

 _'I didn’t know he was that strong,’_ Pidge thinks in wonder, feeling an odd sensation run through her at the sight of Shiro’s legs dangling in thin air. It’s beyond surprise its... it’s like seeing both of them in a new light, no pun intended. The thing that's got her a little rattled is how seeing that Keith's capable of holding Shiro up goes against what she's known from the start. from the dynamic she thought she knew between them.

 

 

They’re so caught up in each that that they don’t notice Pidge quietly backing out of the room, mind spinning because wow. Who knew? She sure as hell didn't think Keith was capable of such strength. Shiro, sure. Hunk, 100%. But Keith? That's a surprise.

 

It’s not until she’s falling face down in her bed that a second question occurs to her: what the hell were those two doing up so early? But as soon as she finishes thinking that, sleep takes her.

 

\----------

 

> 02   Hunk

 

Hunk’s taking a twenty second break before he begins his last set of bench presses when the doors to the weight room swish open. He finishes wiping his face clean before beaming in delight at Keith, “Hey man!”

 

Keith nods in return, lightly holding onto the ends of the red towel hanging around his neck. He’s wearing a white tank and dark tights, the same clothes he wears every time he comes to lift weights. “Am I early?”

 

“A little. But I’m almost done!” Hunk slides back into place, adjusting his grip as he asks, “Mind spotting me?”

 

The man moves smoothly into place at Hunk’s head, quietly asking if Hunk’s ready before keeping count. Hunk lets Keith keep track, grunting as he pushes his way through the stress. He’s been upping his strength training steadily, pushing himself to limits he didn’t think himself capable. But the AI had said he could do it so...

 

“Last three,” Keith quietly tells him, hands hovering carefully underneath the bar. Hunk’s safety net in case his trembling muscles decide to give up or give in. “You’ve got this. Almost there.”

 

Keith’s quiet encouragement gives him strength. It’s a struggle but Hunk manages to successfully complete the final set before letting Keith help him put the bar back in its place. The aqua lights rimming the weights dim, signalling the safety mechanism is on and the weights can no longer be lifted.

 

“Good job,” Keith praises him with a smile. “That was amazing. How much was that?”

 

Hunk laughs breathlessly, a little taken aback by his own accomplishment. “70 kilograms.”

 

He gets an impressed grunt for that and Hunk can’t help but preen a little. Hunk considers any and all praise from Keith to be _high_ praise. “What about you?” he asks as he slides off the bench, but not before giving it a quick wipe down. He doubts Keith wants to lie down on his sweat.

 

Keith tilts his head at the question. “How much can I bench press?”

 

Hunk nods as he stands up. It’s not something he’s asked Keith before even though he’s seen Keith doing bench presses many times before. Given Keith’s size, he guesses the red paladin lifts probably around 30 kilograms or something. Hunk’s ready to half the weights on the bar when Keith says a number that makes him pause, stick his pinkie in his ear, wriggle it hard, and then ask, “Say that again?”

 

“72 kilograms I think.”

 

“You think?” Hunk asks weakly, watching Keith sit down on the bench with his hands lazily resting between his thighs. “You’re not sure?”

 

With a small shake of his head, Keith explains, “The AI’s been upping the weight on its own according to my progress. It keeps track of how much effort I’ve been exerting and other stuff. Last I checked, I’d managed to bench press 72 kilograms.”

 

To say he’s shocked out of his mind would be an understatement. Hunk stares in slack jawed amazement as Keith tightens the velcro on his gloves before sliding under the bar. With a little shoulder wriggle to get comfortable, Keith says to the room, “Computer. Save Yellow Paladin Training Program. Initiate the Red Paladin’s Training Program.”

 

A quiet series of blips and the AI’s cool voice announces, “Red Paladin Training Program, initiated.”

 

Dumbly, Hunk moves into place and watches in awe as the weights adjust themselves. They grow in size, displaying a number that threaten to make Hunk’s eyes pop out of his head in shock. The computer beeps again, the aqua lights around the weights brightening. His awe grows when Keith grips the bar, takes a deep breath, and begins.

 

“Dude...” Hunk breathes out as Keith smoothly raises and lowers the bar. “Isn’t that how much Shiro weighs?”

 

Keith grunts in response, sweat starting to bead his brow. “Almost, yeah.”

 

He can only _stare_ at Keith’s straining muscles, wondering how none of them realized how much strength there is hiding under that lean frame. As Keith finishes the first rep, Hunk asks, “This isn’t because you’re part Galra, right?”

 

“Don’t think so. I’ve been working my way up to this for ages.”

 

“Ages?” Hunk asks, wondering if his own progress will be that slow.

 

Keith rubs the sweat out of his eyes. “Almost a year.” He shoots Hunk a wry smile. “I had a lot of time to kill back at my shack. Lifting weights helped clear my mind. Gave me something to focus on.”

 

Uncertain of what to say, Hunk says, "Oh."

\----------

 

> 03   Coran

 

One of the things Coran enjoys doing is checking in on everyone once it’s lights out. He likes to find each paladin’s hidey hole and gently remind them it’s time to rest. Another day has come an end and tomorrow, a new day with new possibilities will rise.

 

These days, he finds most of their small crew in the living room. Ever since Pidge and Hunk has managed to make a bridging device that will connect their gaming console with their Altean technology, all they’ve been doing is playing games. Even Allura’s been pulled into the fold and can be found yelling with the rest of the them as she fights to avoid defeat.

 

Tonight, Coran has to tell four of them - Allura, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge - to stop playing and head to bed.

 

“You can finish your match tomorrow!” he scolds them as they whine as a collective. “The game isn’t going anywhere.”

 

The group grumbles but ultimately shuffle down the hallway towards their rooms, their teasing comments fading to nothing as they finally turn the corner. Coran stands and watches them go with fondness, hopeful and happy beyond description.

 

“That leaves Shiro and Keith.” Coran twirls his moustache thoughtfully, wondering where the pair could be.

 

 _‘Library, observation room, or the control room_.‘

 

It’s their three favorite places to be. Coran tries the observation room first but it’s empty. Similarly, the control room is empty as well. That leaves the library.

 

Coran’s on his way there when Keith’s form turns the far corner. Delighted, Coran calls out, “Ah! Keith! Just the man i was looking for, have you seen-?”

 

He stops halfway through his question, partially because Keith’s frantically shaking his head and partially because he processes what he’s seeing. Keith’s carrying Shiro’s sleeping form on his back, keeping him in place with a hand under each thigh.

 

What startles him the most is the _ease_ with which Keith’s carrying Shiro. You’d think Shiro weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes! Coran stares at Keith as he walks up to him, pausing midway to gently readjust his grip before he keeps walking.

 

It’s only when Keith comes to a halt in front of him and quietly asks, “Have I seen what?” that Coran remembers he’d stopped in the middle of asking a question.

 

Coran shakes his head, staring at Shiro’s sleeping form. His cheek is smooshed into Keith’s shoulder, lips parted. A puddle of drool has formed on Keith’s shoulder that must seep through his shirt. But he looks as content as Coran has ever seen him.

 

“Do you need a hand?” he asks the red paladin instead.

 

With a small smile, Keith shakes his head. His fingers tighten minutely under Shiro’s thighs before he quietly says, “I’ve got it. I’m used to carrying him back to bed.” The fond look he tries to direct at Shiro’s face makes Coran’s heart ache with memories he tries not to revisit.

 

“Did he fall asleep working again?”

 

“Yeah. He’s such a workaholic.”

 

Love is heavy in Keith’s voice. Again, Coran’s heart aches. With a small smile, Coran says, “That’s our black paladin. Always working to make sure victory will be ours.” He grins cheekily at Keith next, “It’s a good thing he’s got you to look after him.”

 

Pink suffuses Keith’s face as he mumbles, “Someone’s got to. He sucks at taking care of himself.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

Both of them grow quiet when Shiro lets out a sleepy grunt. The man smacks his lips, tightening his arms around Keith’s shoulders before blinking his gray eyes open. “Coran?” He asks before squinting at the side of Keith’s head. “Keith?”

 

Coran steps to the side, making room for Keith to walk by. “I’ll let you carry on. Sweet dreams paladins.”

 

“Good night Coran.”

 

“G’night,” Shiro slurs as well, burying his face deeper into Keith’s neck as he starts walking.

 

Coran watches them go, marveling at Keith’s strength. It takes a lot of core strength to walk so smoothly with a man as heavy as Shiro draped over his back. Impressive really.

 

\----------

 

> 04   Allura and Lance

 

They stand in a line in front of the heavy crate of books they’re supposed to take out of the storage room and into the library. Lance scratches his head and asks, “How we gonna do this?”

 

Allura and Keith continue to stand with their arms crossed across their chest, matching frowns on their faces. They look at each other before Allura suggests, “I’m open to suggestions.”

 

“Do you have one of those,” Lance makes a gesture with both hands like he’s pushing a cart. “Push trolley’s or what you call ‘em? We could load the cart on it and just wheel it away.”

 

“We do have some hover carts but they’re on the other side of the ship. It’ll take too long.”

 

Keith chimes in, “And I think there’s some kind of radius limit on them. I tried to take red’s out of the hangar once and it just stopped working once it was outside the door.”

 

“Who’d even do that?”

 

“I guess whoever programmed it that way wanted to make sure those hover carts stayed in each hanger.”

 

“Fair point,” Lance grumbles, stroking his chin. “I guess we could just carry it there?”

 

He says it as reluctantly as he can to subtly imply it’s not something he wants to do. This carton weighs an actual _ton_ and Lance does _not_ want to throw his back out. If it’s not his back it's going to be something else. He’s going to hurt _something_ trying to carry this pile of moldy but important books to the library.

 

But Allura’s put her hands on her hips, a look of determination on her face. “I believe that’s the best course of action. Keith?”

 

Keith’s pulling his jacket off and tying it around his waist. Lance flails to catch their attention, yelling, “Wait, wait, wait! You can’t be serious! You think the three of us can carry this on our own? All the way to the _library_?”

 

“If we take breaks every so often, we can manage.” Allura replies, while Keith nods.

 

Lance between Keith and himself with growing alarm, “ _Humans_! We don’t have Altean super strength!”

 

“Surely the two of you can manage on one side? I know I can manage one.”

 

An odd noise very close to a _whine_ breaks from Lance. “ _No_! We’re going to need Hunk or Shiro to help!”

 

Allura makes a face like she’s ready to argue and he’s _ready_ to tell her that _normal_ humans like Lance don’t have the kind of strength the average Altean does. But then _Keith_ goes and says, “No we don’t.”

 

Head whipping around, Lance stares at the man and says, “ _Of course_ , we do! We can’t manage this.”

 

“I think we can. Come on,” Keith lightly pats Lance’s shoulder. “Allura, you want to try?”

 

Grumbling, Lance lets himself be guided into place. “This isn’t going to work,” he points out even as he gets his hands under the carton. Keith ignores him while Allura shoots him a look that tells him to shut up.

 

“Ready?” she asks.

 

Lance grumbles, “No.”

 

Keith talks over him, “Three, two, one, _lift_.”

 

Lance braces himself for failure. He expects Allura to easily lift her side of the carton and for them to manage perhaps maybe five inches of height before begging the princess to get more help. But much to his shock and surprise, they actually manage to hold it up.

 

His muscles are _screaming_ at him but they’re _actually doing this_ . With a breathless and disbelieving laugh, Lance asks, “Holy cheese, Keith! How strong _are_ you?”

 

“Strong enough but I’m still going to need you to _pull your weight_ ,” the red paladin points out sharply before telling Allura, “Let’s hurry.”

 

“You _never_ said you were this strong!” Lance says as they start to shuffle back towards the double door. “Is it an alien thing? It’s got to be an alien thing.”

 

“It’s _not_ an alien thing.”

 

They pause a moment as the doors slide open.

 

“You sure? Damn. I guess all that training you do _does_ have a point.” They’re in the hallway now and taking careful, measured steps towards the library. “Hey, you think you could help me get stronger too?”

 

Keith nods, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. He grunts, “Sure. It’ll take a lot of work though.”

 

“As long as I get some guns, I’m fine with that.”

 

Puzzled, Allura asks, “Guns? You can get guns from strength training?”

 

With a breathless snort, Keith says to him, “You said it, you explain it.”

 

\----------

 

> 05   Shiro

Shiro wakes out of his nightmare with a start, heart beating madly in his chest and sweat dotting his forehead. His throat is dry. Shiro reaches a clammy hand up to touch his neck, swallowing harshly as he reminds himself he’s okay. He’s not in the Arena. He’s not being choked to death.

 

“I’m okay,” Shiro hoarsely whispers. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply before repeating the words. “I’m okay.”

 

He opens his eyes. The night light is on its dimmest setting, meaning it’s a few beats above total darkness. It’s just enough light for him to turn on his side and see the back of Keith’s head. He’s still asleep.

 

“Thank God,” he murmurs. If there’s one thing Shiro hates, it’s waking Keith up because of his nightmares. But it looks like tonight, Keith’s slept through his sudden waking.

 

Shiro closes his eyes, exhaling softly as he closes the distance between them, pressing his forehead against a warm, bare shoulder. He carefully slips his arm around Keith’s waist, regulating his breathing by mirroring the his boyfriends deep inhales and exhales. Shiro’s close to feeling normal and feels he could fall back asleep when Keith’s breathing stutters.

 

Against him, Keith slowly wakes up. He rolls over, eyes squeezing before cracking open to squint at Shiro. A sleep clumsy hand pats his cheek. Shiro watches Keith’s Adam’s Apple bob before he softly asks, “Nightmare?”

 

“Yeah.” Shiro shifts a little close, putting them nose to nose. Closing his eyes, he asks, “Did I wake you?”

 

“No. Just woke up.”

 

Without another word, Keith’s arm slides around his shoulders and pulls him in. Shiro happily rubs his cheek into Keith’s chest, feeling exponentially better when he feels a soft kiss being pressed into his hair.

 

“Want me to sing to you?”

 

“I’m good,” Shiro pats Keith’s side. “Get back to sleep.”

 

“You sure?” Keith’s voice is laced with sleep but the concern is palpable. “If it’ll help I’ll sing.”

 

If his face wasn’t already pressed against Keith’s skin, Shiro would do that in this moment. Instead, he hides his helplessly happy smile into warm skin and feels so terribly loved. In moments like this, Shiro can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone who is as strong, as amazing, as _loving_ as Keith.

 

Shiro drops a kiss on Keith’s pec and murmurs, “This is more than enough.”

 

“‘kay. Wake me up if you need me.”

 

“Okay. Sweet dreams.”

 

“Mm.”

 

\----------

 

> +1   Keith

 

Shiro hesitates in the doorway, staring at Keith’s tense form for a moment before turning around. Around the corner is the rest of the gang. They all shoot him different gestures of good luck. Shiro exhales and steps into the room.

 

As soon as the mission had gone sideways, he’d known this would happen. He’d _known_ they’d tell him that _he_ was going to have to be the one to talk to Keith and tell him not to be so hard on himself. So here he was, stepping into the observation deck where Keith had holed up. Wondering what he can possibly say that will soften the blow of their loss.

 

The tension hovering around Keith could be cut with a knife. Shiro’s shocked he can’t actually _see_ the dark cloud hanging over his boyfriend’s head. He places his hand on Keith’s shoulder and feels it stiffen.

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he tells him quietly. “They were soldiers. They knew what they were getting into.”

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who-”

 

The wobbly quality of Keith’s voice makes Shiro step in front of him, both hands on Keith’s shoulders now. He peers down at Keith, firmly but gently correcting him, “Keith. They _knew_ what they were getting into. They’d known there was a chance of an ambush.”

 

Keith’s red rimmed eyes rise up and dart away, but not before Shiro catches the shame in them. “I could have thought of something else. Something smarter.”

 

Wetness is gathering in Keith’s eyes. His heart aches as he pulls Keith in for a tight embrace. It squeezes as Keith’s arms wrap around him, holding him like Shiro’s the only thing keeping him tethered. Shiro murmurs, “We didn’t have a choice. Someone had to go in there and flip the switch. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

 

Somehow, Keith shrinks in his arms. Perhaps it’s the way his proud shoulders slump and he leans all his weight into Shiro. Accepting the cost of this war they’re participating in taking its toll on Keith. Usually, he takes defeat better than this. But when lives are lost... he holds himself responsible more than anyone else.

 

Shiro presses his cheek against Keith’s dark hair, quietly asking, “Want to go back to our room?”

 

Keith’s quiet for a moment before he replies, “Yeah.”

 

“Want me to carry you?”

 

Keith shakes his head, pulling away with a hard sniff and a nose rub. “No. I just...” Without a word, he moves to stand under Shiro’s shoulder, his cheek pressed into his arm.

 

Shiro nods in understanding and slides his arm around Keith’s shoulders. He’ll be Keith’s support any day of the week.


End file.
